The Jealous Type

You’re gonna lose control before this night is over.

She doesn’t know it, but you feel it under your skin. Again. She’s gazing out the window, watching the city lights fly by, and all you’re thinking about, is him.

She’s wearing her best perfume. She’s lost in a smile. She’s got no idea, it’s gonna be one of those nights. She’s making her chit chat, she’s teasing you tapping your leg, so play along. Try. Hold it in as long as you can.

Red light, you sit. And suddenly, everything’s quiet. For one split second, it’s not your car, but his. She turns her long dark hair and sighs as if the whole world is at peace. Green light, you go, you’re gripping the wheel too tight.

You forgave her, you said, so if it’s still a problem, it’s yours. You’ve forgiven her, so if it still hurts, that’s too bad. If the way she looks tonight makes you wonder, then stop it now. You promised her, you won’t bring it up anymore.

You’d hold her if you could, to protect her from what’s coming. But she’s so beautiful tonight, it makes you want to break something. The whole world’s got a hole in it, bleeding, but she can’t see it. She asks if something’s wrong and, of course, you say “nothing.”

You forgave her.

Now the traffic thins away, the city lights they spill out behind you. All you see ahead is black, and this gorgeous victim beside you. Stay cool, you’re a killer, smile while you’re gripping her hand too tight. You’re not the jealous type. You’re not the jealous type. You’re not the jealous type at all.

You’re gonna lose control.